


Awake Not Afraid

by MercurialTenacity, writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Daddy Kink, Dark Fantasy, Dark Original Percival Graves, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Heavy Angst, Humiliation, M/M, Magical Sex Toys, Master/Pet, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Magic, Sexual Slavery, Somnophilia, Watersports, kink B I N G O
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 10:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10695180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialTenacity/pseuds/MercurialTenacity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Graves uses his boy as he sees fit.  He’s so pliant, malleable, and Graves likes to keep him that way.  It’s an easy outlet for his stress.  And if his pet seems to get a little confused sometimes, doesn’t always understand what’s happening, well, Graves doesn’t exactly mind so long as he’s good.Credence never imagined being so happy.  Everything is turning out wonderfully, just like he always wanted… except that sometimes he gets confused, and thinks maybe it’s not.  But he puts it out of his mind, it’s not important.  Only being with the love of his life is important.





	Awake Not Afraid

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically the result of me wanting to shove all my nastiest kinks into one fic, and having the most wonderful collab partner to help make that possible. -w/r  
> -  
> Writing this fic was a joy, so here's to a great collab and taking things farther than I ever could have alone. <3 -m/t

_When it’s five to seven, Credence could swear he hears his heart start to beat faster. Because it’s almost time for his wonderful love to come home. He’d been practicing charms for cooking and spells to enhance food for the last couple days, just so he could make a special meal for Mister Graves’ birthday._

_Credence finishes up the tomato sauce for the chicken and checks on the pasta, before turning around to check the clock again. Before he can even blink, Mister Graves is appearing on the spot at the front door with a snap, and his eyes widen at the sight._

_“Welcome home.”_

_“What are you wearing?”_

_Credence blushes._

_“I thought it fit the image you wanted.”_

_“Which is?”_

_“Good little wife?”_

_Mister Graves smirks, and steps closer, sending his coat and scarf to hang on the clothes tree near the door, before taking Credence into his arms and kissing him fiercely, sliding a hand down his back and squeezing at his ass._

_“Yellow and pink do your beautiful skin wonders.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_“You’re welcome, love.”_

_Mister Graves gives him another quick peck on the cheek before walking past, going to see what’s being made for him._

_“It’s chicken parmesan.”_

_“What’s for dessert?”_

_The way Mister Graves looks at him tells him all he needs to know, and that is, that he is going to be dessert._

_Every day, and every time the man kisses him, he feels as if he couldn’t possibly be happier. Mister Graves isn’t vocal beyond the occasional term of endearment, and yet Credence feels sure that he is just as unbelieving and content._

_Afterwards, when he is just drifting off to sleep, Mister Graves strokes his cheek and cards his fingers in Credence’s hair. Sometimes though, there’s a flash, and he blinks, and Mister Graves is frowning down at him, looking disappointed._

_It’s just a nightmare._

_That’s all it is._

 

* * *

 

Graves is already in a bad mood when he walks back into his apartment, and finding his loyal and pretty pet smiling at him doesn’t really help cheer him up. Nothing does, except using him like he deserves. He loosens his tie with one hand and stalks over to where Credence is still secured to the chair in the kitchen, where he’s been resting after a half dose of sleeping draught.

Completely naked for easy access, he would look the picture of innocence if not for the leaking and shiny head of his hard cock, resting against his stomach, only a few inches from nudging his left pectoral. The sight just makes him angry, instead of aroused. He hates his pet being bigger than him most days, and today is just one of those days. He flicks a finger at Credence, and instantly his pet’s cock begins to deflate, to shrink and slide down to rest over a pale unmarked thigh. It won’t be that way for long.

Credence whimpers, eyelashes fluttering, and his lower lip trembles.

The hex keeps him soft, but he’s still able to come, if Graves allows it. He can’t decide if he will yet.

“Did you miss me, sweet boy? Did you miss Daddy?”

He shucks off his jacket and walks over to put a hand on the side of Credence’s face, a thumb roughly rubbing over his bottom lip.

“Yes-s-s-s.... I need to come Papa. Been waiting for you.”

Graves rolls his eyes.

“You’re just hungry for Daddy’s cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I need you.”

Graves crooks a finger, and a pair of fingers begin to open Credence up, sliding in and out of his hole, slick with magic, before a plug forms in the space and presses deeply inside. It will keep him open until he is ready to be fucked.

Credence rocks his hips, and his cock shifts a little on his thigh, still blessedly soft, but leaking clear fluid on his skin.

“Papa…”

He can already feel his own cock thickening in his trousers, just from the sight of his pet begging so prettily, tears making his lashes stick together as he fights against chasing after his orgasm, fights the urge to grind down on the plug. He holds himself back, always aware he needs permission, like a good pet.

“Go on. Make a mess of yourself, my little cockslut.”

He palms over himself, and watches as Credence shudders through his first climax, his soft cock spurting white cream lazily over his skin, some oozing down his leg.

The boy’s shoulders tense and strain against his invisible bonds, and he thrashes only a moment before tilting his head up, nuzzling against Graves’ hand, eyes opening slowly, lips parting,

“Please let me taste you Papa, let me please you.”

“You do so well just like this baby.”

He likes to practice self denial as best he can, before losing control of himself and ruining and wrecking his lovely pet. Right now he just wants to defile him. Later, there will be plenty of time to fuck him, while he sleeps.

As Credence fights for breath Graves continues to rub his palm against his cock, feeling how close he can get, just from the sight of his boy like this. Perfectly restrained and on display for him.

No wonder he couldn’t find it in him to give him up to MACUSA when the boy first manifested in his living room, after a particularly bad thunderstorm. He still isn’t sure what he would do without the boy there to provide him plenty of relief from stress and frustration.

Keeping him sweet and pliant and willing takes almost no effort. The boy is so unused to kindness and caring that he just blindly accepts it, along with consequences for his actions, for little mistakes he didn’t even mean to make.

Credence keeps his mouth open, with his lips parted and his pink tongue hanging out, ready and thirsty for Graves’ cock, he knows, but he isn’t about to give in to what his _pet_ wants _._ He is in charge. He grips the boy’s cheek harder, fingers curling under the sharp line of the boy’s jaw, and the boy whines, low in his throat, making Graves growl in response.

“You want Daddy’s cock? Hmm? Want Daddy to paint your face?”

He nods, rubbing himself harder against Graves’ hand, and he smirks.

“Too bad. Daddy isn’t in the mood for that. He’s gonna mark you. Make you his.”

“I’m yours, Papa.”

If the boy insists on countering him at every turn with such an outdated endearment, so be it. Graves spells his trousers open and finally puts his hand on his cock, skin to skin contact making him infinitely harder. Credence’s eyes lock on the weeping head, and he licks his lips.

“My little whore.”

Credence trembles, shivering, and his hexed cock twitches against his thigh, before spilling a smear of white that falls onto the floor. He will be made to clean it up later, perhaps once he’s more cognizant. He’s still coming down from the high of the draught.

“You like that? Like being called Daddy’s little whore?”

He steps closer and rubs the head of his cock against the boy’s plush bottom lip and his tongue flicks out, lapping at the slit, as his dark liquid eyes close in reverent bliss.

“Good boy.”

He nudges his cockhead in deeper, pressing close and groaning at the feel of Credence’s mouth wrapping around his length, suckling gently, before a little harder, he knows exactly how to work Graves up the fastest.

“Such a lovely pet.”

Credence hums in contentment, and his cheeks flush as Graves shifts his hand, tracing a finger over the bulge in his boy’s throat as he swallows around his cock.

Another need burns low and hot in his abdomen, but he can let himself come first, and finish off Credence’s third orgasm. He shifts on his heels, moving a touch closer, thrusting deeper, and feels the boy gag around him, aware that the thickness of his cock is too much if he goes too fast. He doesn’t care.

“You ready baby? Daddy’s gonna mark you.”

Credence’s cheeks are wet with tears, steadily falling now, but he nods again. Graves pulls his cock out and away, fisting it quickly, stroking himself so hard and fast his hand is a blur, until his orgasm takes over him and he aims his cock down, painting long wet stripes of white over Credence’s chest, over his stomach, and onto his own cock.

Credence’s thighs flex, and he worries his bottom lip until it bleeds, coming on himself again, just barely a couple drops of semen dribbling out of his soft cock.

“Papa… it hurts…”

“I know baby. It’s almost over.”

Graves hefts his cock in hand, now growing soft, and moves to straddle Credence’s lap, balancing on his thighs and gripping his free hand on the back of the boy’s neck. He locks eyes with him as he began to release his bladder, wetting the boy right over his own cock and feeling how he shivers from the warmth of the liquid.

“Papa…”

“You’re filthy now. Disgusting.”

Credence lets out a sob, and his head falls forward, eyes dropping to look. Graves does the same, seeing how the boy’s cock barely twitches and then is leaking over himself, dripping down his legs to form a small puddle on the floor.

“Oh baby, you needed to go too?”

He worries his bottom lip again, his teeth now strained with red, and Graves sighs.

“Don’t hurt yourself, baby. You need to clean Daddy up.”

He gets to his feet, vanishing the mess on the floor before moving close again, rubbing the length of his cock over his boy’s lips, trying to ignore how arousing it is seeing a smear of crimson from the boy on his cock.

If only he could take him and make it hurt that much every time.

But it wouldn’t be worth the aftercare.

“Go on. Lick.”

Credence mouths over his spent cock for a moment, before more tears emerge.

“Please Papa, I’m so tired.”

Graves sighs again.

“Me too baby.”

He isn’t even hungry, just worn out from the day. He twirls his fingers, elaborately undoing the binding spell, and cleans Credence off with another charm, before helping him to his feet and walking them both to his bedroom.

There is a hint of tenderness as he tucks the boy in and feeds him a fresh vial of draught, but only just that. His fingers brush through Credence’s hair and he sees a smile curving his pretty lips, before the potion takes effect and his breathing slows, and he’s gone. Lost in his enchanting dreamland.

Graves leaves to shower, to gain back some semblance of sanity, and when he returns the boy is curled up on one side of the bed, and his hands are pressed together under his cheek. He looks so much younger like that. It makes Graves want to defile him all over again, and ruin the perfection of that image.

He runs a hand over the side of Credence’s ribs, his waist, the slight curve of his hip, and then further down, to the base of his spine, where he presses two fingers between the boy’s cheeks, spreading him to withdraw the magical plug which he gifted him with earlier. Now he just wants to _fuck_ his lovely pet.

Graves shifts in closer, pulling the boy’s lax body flush to his own, and he gives a couple practice thrusts between the boy’s thighs, the dry friction just enough to tease him and bring his cock up to full hardness again.

“My dear boy… you undo me.”

He presses a kiss into Credence’s bare shoulder and then splays a hand over his stomach, holding him close as he puts his other hand to his cock, lining up with the boy’s hole, casting a lubrication spell at the last second to ease the pressure, and he thrusts home on the first try, groaning aloud at the feel.  
It is too much, too good, too fast, tight and hot and delicious. With little effort he dips into the boy’s mind, finding only himself inside Credence’s dreams. To his surprise the images are of simple domestic things, imagining the two of them in a beautiful hotel, at the balcony, watching fireworks, as something sparkles on the boy’s left hand.

He wants to be _Graves’_ alone after all.

Graves lets out a moan, and barely gets in three pumps before he pulls back from the boy’s dreams, wary of being distracted by such sweet images. Then he grabs the boy’s cock with one hand, feeling how it makes him react, lips parting in a gasp, still deeply asleep, but surely able to realize what is happening, and he feels a slickness on his hands.

“Coming before Daddy? Good thing you’re asleep pretty one.”

Graves bites down on his neck, marking him and thrusting harder, fucking the boy through his own orgasm, the obscenely wet noises filling the silence. When he pulls back and out of the boy’s ass he watches for a moment as his come begins to slide out, before he conjures up another plug and slides it in place, ensuring the boy will hold onto some of it while he sleeps.

He turns onto his back and lets out a sigh, before closing his own eyes.

 

* * *

 

_Their anniversary weekend in Paris is the most wonderful thing Credence has ever experienced. They barely leave the bed, only to go out and visit the Eiffel tower, and Mister Graves tells him that it still pales in comparison to when Credence smiles at him._

_He blushes and allows Mister Graves to apparate them back to the hotel and press him into the wall right beside the bedroom door, kissing him so deeply Credence swears he can taste the sweetness of the wine they shared, and the smoke of the cigar Mister Graves had partaken earlier._

_“Make love to me, Percival.”_

_The man’s eyes darken and he marks Credence’s neck, making him arch into the man’s strong body,_

_“Anything you want my boy.”_

_“Please.”_

_A hand grazes down his hip and slides to the front of his trousers, cupping over his cock, hardening into the man’s touch._

_“You’re hard. Do you want my mouth on you, baby?”_

_“Yes.”_

_It comes out more like a gasp, and Credence will always be in awe when the man of his dreams falls to his knees before him. Even when he had proposed it was unbelieveable. Mister Graves nuzzles a cheek against his thigh, and smiles dazedly up at him before undoing his trousers with magic and putting his hand and lips to his cock._

_He recalls his dreams from the other night, and how the man had refused to kiss him, had told him he was nothing but his belonging to be used to provide pleasure to him and him alone. He had hurt him, all in the name of claiming him._

_Credence isn’t sure why he’s having such awful dreams, and he doesn’t know how to ask about them._

_Like he’s moving underwater Mister Graves returns to his feet and pulls Credence off his own, carrying him off to the bedroom, magicking their clothes away with barely a word. Mister Graves’ body is strong and warm over his own, bracketing him in the man’s loving embrace, and Credence is able to forget about the harsh nightmares and just enjoy his company. He is going to become a_ Graves _. He is going to be with the man for as long as they both should live. He can’t imagine being happier._

 

* * *

 

Graves wakes up to find his pet nuzzling closer, rubbing flushing cheeks against his chest, and he wonders just what Credence is dreaming about now to illicit such a fond reaction.

He pets the boy’s hair and nudges him down, guiding him to put his sleepy lips to his hardening cock, and charming him to keep his mouth open properly, lips over teeth, and tongue flat against the underside.

It isn’t the same as fucking his mouth when he’s awake, but it’s still very pleasant. Though Credence can’t swallow him down while he’s asleep, it will be much more fun to paint his face while he sleeps, to mark him without his knowing.

Graves lets his head fall back against the pillows and moves his hips languidly, letting his pet suckle and lick and drool over his length. He’s humping the bed just slightly, his own pretty cock thick and hard between his legs, probably making a complete mess of the sheets.

“Naughty little thing. Don’t make me hex you…”

He does allow the plug in Credence’s ass to start vibrating, to push and push him to the breaking point, and Graves almost hopes he might wake up mid-climax, and he will get to see the fear in his eyes as he realizes what he’s done.

But instead the boy wakes up just then, slowly, and continues to thrust his hips, but his long lashes flutter over his cheeks and he starts sucking harder on Graves’ cock, hollowing his cheeks and flicking his tongue hard into the slit that is copiously leaking precome into his mouth.

“Good morning my sweet whore. You look gorgeous like this. Shall I come down your throat?”

Credence nods and hums, surprisingly eager, so Graves allows it. With a slow roll of his hips and a tensing in his thighs he finishes into the boy’s mouth, watching as his pet swallows every pulse of his come dutifully, and only coughs slightly when he withdraws from those plush pink lips.

“Good morning Papa.”

Graves is trying to be angry with him, but his pet just remains there, lying next to him, little abortive movements of his hips stuttering against the sheets, the only sign that the plug is still moving within him, surely driving him closer to coming by the moment. His silence and obedience is so alluring in and of itself.

“I want to watch you come until you cannot.”

He decides at once, flicking his fingers at the boy, forcing him onto his knees upon the bed with his hands bound behind his back, forcing him to arch forward and thrust his cock against empty air. Graves gets up lazily and walks over to lean against the doorframe. It is an entirely different method of torture than the boy is used to. The plain neglect he’d suffered before at the hand of his no-maj guardians is probably more welcome at this point, but he just doesn’t yet realize it.

“Papa… may I?”

“Yes baby. Go ahead.”

He watches, enrapture, as Credence shudders through his first climax and paints his own chest and stomach, all the way up to his neck with the force of it, and he increases the speed of the vibrations on his pet’s plug.

The boy’s cock remains hard, very flushed at the head, almost painful looking, as Credence’s own spend began to drip down his body and his head falls forward, his breath coming fast.

“How’s that feel?”

Graves finds himself reaching down to palm his own cock, which is making a valiant effort to return, so he decides to wait it out and fuck his pet again, once he is fully spent.

“Good, Papa. But it hurts…”

“Again?”

Credence’s body shivers, and he whimpers out a sob as he tries to fall forward but his thighs merely tremble from the effort of holding himself up, while his cock twitches. It spurts out another few ropes of white onto his stomach, but when he looks up at Graves his face is wet with tears.

“Please, touch me Papa… I need you.”

The poor thing probably wants a tender kiss like he’s seen in his dreams, but Graves is not in the mood for that sort of… act.

“You don’t give orders to me sweet thing, I give them to you.”

His pet’s lithe form shakes as he forces himself through another climax, which only yields a few pathetic specks, barely worth noting. Luckily Graves’ cock is fully hard now, and he waves his hand again, freeing the boy from his rigid stance and pushing him down to rest his cheek on the sheets, ass in the air, presenting himself prettily, only semi-aware of what’s next.

“Papa… please, I need to-”

“Shh-hh. Daddy’s going to fuck you now. Before I have to go face the idiots I work with. I want to make sure you’re freshly full of me.”

Graves withdraws the plug, still buzzing, and tosses it aside, not even caring to watch when it vanishes, preferring to graze his hand down the bumps of Credence’s spine, to finger the obscenely leaking hole between flushing cheeks. It is just begging for his cock to fill it back up again.

“Papa…”

“Do you want a spanking?”

“No Papa.”

“Then be silent.”

Graves sighs and slowly presses the head of his cock against the slick pinkness of the boy’s hole, biting back a moan at how good it feels, even though it’s only been a few scant hours since he fucked him. It is just so perfect. He can feel Credence clenching around him, perhaps from hypersensitivity and a bit of pain, but he won’t stop, doesn’t slow his thrusting, and he tightens his hands on the boy’s hips to prevent him from trying to shrink away. Bruises from the night before already stand out in stark contrast to his pale skin, splashes of purple and brown that will fade to green and yellow in time are scattered over his sides and even on his neck. He doesn’t remember gripping that hard there, but oh well.

“Papa!”

He hits right against his pet’s sweet spot, he can feel him tensing, and then his body quivers, and he is crying, again.

Graves can’t understand what the problem is, until he feels warmth seeping down the sheets beneath the boy. He slips a hand under his waist to grasp at his cock, which has gone just soft enough to allow him to urinate.

He’s wet himself because he’s already wrung his cock of all its come.

“My little slut is clearly in need of better training, aren’t you pet?”

He smacks Credence’s closest asscheek and watchs the skin turn redder  All the while the boy continues to shiver, pain turning into pleasure once more as his body relaxes, and he gives in to accepting Graves cock again. He pulls out almost all the way only to push back in harder, and when he touches the boy’s cock, he can feel him hardening again.

Magic has nothing on his youth.

“Gonna milk Daddy’s cock, aren’t you baby?”

“Yes Papa, I promise I’ll be good.”

He leans down to nip at the back of the boy’s neck and whispers right in his ear, certain to ensure the continuing confusion of such happy dreams.

“That’s all I want for you.”

He rests his forehead between the boy’s shoulders as he lets his orgasm wash over him, and he fucks the boy through it, relishing the feeling and the bliss of knowing that his boy won’t be able to walk straight, thanks to how hard he’s been taken that morning.

It gives him a sense of purpose when he withdraws to go shower, leaving the boy lying in his filthy mess, and with Graves’ come trickling down his thighs.

He’ll clean the boy up before he leaves, he isn’t a monster after all.

He adores his pet.

 

* * *

 

_He is a bit sore, he thinks to himself, as he walks to the kitchenette of the hotel room to begin brewing some tea for both himself and his future husband. His lips are swollen from the force of the man’s kissing, and he can’t help smiling as he recalls the way they’d just fallen into bed the night before._

_“What’s got you so cheery, sweet thing?”_

_The man’s voice breaks through his thoughts, and he turns to see Mister Graves walking over to him, clad in just his bathrobe, hair damp from his shower and perfectly styled already._

_“Just you.”_

_Mister Graves pecks him on the cheek before hugging him with one arm, taking over the making of breakfast with a quick wave of his hand, so he can more easily pull Credence in for a proper kiss, with just a bit of tongue and a graze of teeth._

_When Mister Graves squeezes a hand over his side he winces, and he can’t remember how he got a bruise there._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_“Just a little fragile, I think. Go easy on me next time.”_

_“If you insist.”_

_A swift kiss, and the man moves away to start plating their food. Credence just watches, enamoured. He can’t imagine being happier._

 

* * *

Breakfast, unfortunately, is necessary. Graves has enough time before work, so he may as well let his pet eat. He doesn’t have any particular requirement that Credence be conscious in order to use him, but he also doesn’t want him passing out unexpectedly from malnutrition. He sets the food to finish heating and goes to get the boy out of bed.

Credence is still laying in his own mess when Graves enters. As he should be. Credence knows better than to move without Graves’ permission, and he’s an obedient little thing. Graves pulls the blankets off him and he shivers, starting to curl in on himself.

“Ah-ah.”

Credence pauses, looking up at Graves, and lets his body relax. Graves smiles, sharp and hard. He turns Credence over, pressing him down into the mattress with a palm on his chest, and Credence’s breathing quickens just a little, watching Graves with his big round eyes as Graves spreads his legs apart. He takes Credence’s soft cock in his hand, tugging on it experimentally.

“What shall we do with this today, baby?”

Credence whimpers softly as Graves continues toying with his cock while he contemplates, squeezing it without any real intention to provide sensation or get him off. His cock twitches in Graves’ hand, starting to fill again.

“Hmm. What do you think sweet thing? Do you want a hard cock?”

After a moment, Credence nods.

“That’s because you’re a slut,” he mutters, but he reaches into the drawer of the bedside table anyway. The cock ring he pulls out is one of his favorites. He loves watching what it does to Credence over the course of a day, how something so simple as staying hard, always, makes the boy fall to pieces. He holds Credence’s limp cock in his hand and slides the ring on, fitting it all the way at the base. Credence lays still while Graves handles him, making little gasps when Graves pumps his cock roughly to bring it fully hard. Graves doesn’t stop, watching Credence tremble as he gets closer, closer, right up to the edge.

“Please Papa, may I… may I please, I-I need to –”

“Shush, don’t you worry about it. Let Daddy take care of you.”

Credence is right at the edge and tumbling over, his hips thrusting up involuntarily into Graves’ hand, and Graves sees on Credence’s face the exact moment he realizes he’s still hard. He may be able to climax, but he can’t come. Graves knows exactly what he’s feeling, he did the enchantment himself. A tricky little charm, took him a while to get it right, but worth it. Credence can feel pleasure, but no release. As soon as the glow fades he’ll be right back to the desperate little whore he is, just as worked up if not more so. It’s going to be a lovely thing to come home to, something to look forward to at the end of a long day.

He lets go of Credence’s cock and it bobs up, hard as ever. He conjures up another plug to fit in the boy’s hole before he pulls Credence up by the shoulders and off the bed.

“Come along, boy.”

Graves turns and walks back to the kitchen, Credence stumbling behind.

 

* * *

 

_Credence is lucky, so lucky, that Mister Graves takes such good care of him. He makes Credence feel so good, cooks him breakfast, and Credence doesn’t know what he would do without the man. Credence never thought his life would turn out so perfectly, that it could become exactly what he’d always wanted._

_Credence gets confused sometimes, and he worries, but it’s times like this that he knows just how much Mister Graves cares for him. He relishes every touch, every gesture and sign of affection, and he’ll return it tenfold._

_He can’t help but picture the wedding plans over breakfast. He’s just so excited, he knows Mister Graves loves him, but he wants to make it official, wants to know it’s forever. He wonders who they’ll invite. Credence doesn’t have much family, but the Graves family is huge. He’ll get to meet all the important people in Mister Graves’ life, and he wants to show them all what a good husband he can be. Credence can’t wait to be married._

_“Maybe we could do it here.”_

_“Do what, sweet?”_

_“The wedding. It’s so beautiful, I feel like we could stay here forever.”_

_Mister Graves smiles at him and takes his hand over the table, their clasped fingers resting on the lacy cloth._

_“I wanted it to be a surprise… but I thought we could return for our honeymoon. I want to marry you at the Graves Estate. I’ll show you where I grew up. You couldn’t imagine a better place for a wedding than under the oak trees and in the wildflowers. You’ll love it, my dear.”_

_Credence knows that he will. He wants the wedding to be perfect, but as long as he and Mister Graves are both in attendance it will be._

 

* * *

Graves positions Credence at his feet during breakfast. He draws the boy in between his spread knees, curling his fingers into his hair and tugging him close until Credence’s head rests against his inner thigh. Credence mouths at Graves’ cock through his trousers, tentative, and Graves looks down at him.

“Do you want Daddy’s cock in your mouth?” he mutters, more to himself than to Credence. He opens his trousers and takes his cock out, taking Credence by the back of the neck and feeding it into his waiting mouth. It feels so fucking good, every time, to feel his cock resting on the boy’s tongue. The wet heat of his mouth is heavenly, and Graves sighs in relaxation.

Credence starts to suck, and Graves instantly tightens his grip on Credence’s hair until the boy whimpers.

“I’m eating, you little cock slut. Keep your slutty mouth still.”

Credence does. He holds Graves’ cock while he eats, mouth stretched obscenely wide, and when Graves looks down there’s drool dripping down Credence’s chin. Graves wishes he could take his time today. He craves the weekend, when he can slowly pull his boy apart bit by bit, unhurried, without a thought for meetings with overpaid and underqualified, self important pricks.

Graves sighs over his bacon. He sometimes thinks he really should make the boy do the cooking, but he isn’t good for all that much besides fucking. Graves doesn’t know if he would trust him around an open flame, though if his dreams are anything to go by, he has a taste for the domestic. Maybe Graves will teach him how to do chores, he wouldn’t mind watching him spend more time on his knees.

Credence’s breakfast is cooling on the table while Graves eats, and by the time he’s done it really doesn’t look all that appetizing any more. But that’s what the boy gets for having such a sweet mouth. Graves looks down at Credence and considers, hand resting in his hair. He could fuck the boy’s throat now, he’s wet for it with all that drool, and it would make up for having to cook him breakfast. But it’s been quite a morning already, and he really has to get a move on. Credence’s eyes are shining, staring up at Graves and watching as he finishes the last few bites of breakfast. Graves sighs. If he wants to have a good time later, he needs Credence to have at least some semblance of strength.

“Get up baby.”

Credence pulls off Graves’ cock slowly, as though suspecting he might be told to stay put after all. When no such order comes he rocks back fully, one hand reaching up to wipe the drool from his chin.

He should know better.

“No,” Graves says, exasperated. “Leave it pet, just eat. Quickly.”

Credence does, scarfing down the cold food without hesitation. It’s not that Graves has anything in particular against the boy eating, he does recognize that it’s necessary, it’s just that it’s inconvenient. There are so many better uses Graves has for him than sitting at the breakfast table, and it’s annoying how often he needs nutrition. But he gets slow if he doesn’t eat, and has trouble following orders, so Graves does his best to remember.

Credence’s cock is straining up, looking almost painfully hard, and Graves watches Credence shifting in his seat. He’s so soft, so trusting, and it makes Graves want to tear him apart. Graves makes an impatient noise and opens the newspaper while he waits, scanning it idly. He watches Credence over the top of the pages. It can’t have been more than five minutes, but Graves is bored. He has to get to work. He doesn’t have time for this.

He sends the plate across the room to tip its contents into the trash bin and stack itself in the sink when he decides he’s waited long enough. He’s been more than patient. If Credence wanted more food he should have eaten faster.

With a flick of his wand Graves secures Credence to his chair, arms trapped behind him so that he won’t be able to reach his cock. Graves wants Credence hard when he gets home, and though the boy is supposed to know better, Graves doesn’t trust him not to touch himself all day when his cock is constantly aching. As enjoyable as it would be to come home to find Credence’s cock raw and swollen from constant friction and abuse in Credence’s desperate search for a proper orgasm, it’s not worth the amount of time he'd have to spend letting it heal. It’s not even Credence’s fault really, the pathetic little thing can’t control himself.

“Are you going to be good while Daddy’s gone, sweet boy?”

“Yes… yes Papa.”  Credence is already making desperate little movements with his hips, and Graves smiles as he collects his briefcase.

 

* * *

 

_Their honeymoon is the most incredible thing Credence could imagine. It’s the start of their life together, the start of the rest of their future, and Credence is in a constant state of bliss._

_The wedding happened quickly, neither of them wanting to wait, and the two months it took to set the plans are a blur. Mister Graves whisks him back to Paris again and they spend the most glorious two weeks of Credence’s life in each other’s arms. Mister Graves takes him to the nicest restaurant in the city at dusk, and Credence watches the lights of the city sparkling as he sips the smoothest floral wine he’s ever tasted._

_Credence leans into Mister Graves halfway through the meal, their hands clasped tightly._

_“I never want this to end.”_

_“My boy. My sweet boy. It never has to.”_

_Mister Graves orders them crème brûlée for dessert. Credence watches as he taps a spoon over the top of it, cracking the hard caramel, and dips in to scoop up the rich custard. He raises it to Credence’s lips, and Credence lets his eyes fall shut as the taste explodes across his tongue._

 

* * *

When Graves returns home that evening he’s greeted by the site of his boy weeping.

“Papa… Papa, please…”

“Dear boy, is that any way to greet me? What do you say to Daddy?”

Credence sniffles, and with a visible effort manages to pull himself together. “Welcome home Papa.”

Graves sends his coat to hang itself up and settles himself back in, demonstrating a rather remarkable show of self-restraint, before dragging Credence over to the couch by his soft hair. Credence goes easily, keyed in to his every movement. Graves leans back on the couch, Credence positioned between his thighs, and god is he looking forward to this.

“Well, pet? Get to work.”

Credence wastes no time taking Graves’ cock out, gazing at it and licking reverently before Graves takes him by the back of the neck and forces his head down. Credence makes a little gurgling noise and he gags as Graves’ cock hits the back of his throat, body jerking in what is probably an involuntary motion. Graves holds him in place for a moment longer before pulling him off his cock to let him draw in air. Credence takes big, shuddering gasps, trembling a little, and Graves can see tears pricking at his eyes. Whether from lack of air or humiliation or both, it doesn't really matter. The boy is pretty when he cries.

Graves drags Credence back down and he chokes again. He holds the boy down, waiting for him to get himself under control as he struggles with his gag reflex. Eventually Credence stills and swallows, body twitching but his throat feeling so good around Graves’ cock. Graves groans, hips bucking up against Credence's face. It's so fucking good, he can feel the heat starting to pool in his stomach and the shocks of pleasure running up his spine each time Credence swallows. He takes the boy’s face in his hands and drags him up and down on his cock, tipping his head back and breathing deep.

The wet gulping noises coming out of Credence's mouth make Graves feel like he's an instant away from coming. He presses Credence down onto his cock, gripping the back of his neck, as he feels it pulsing through him. His hips jerk up and Credence makes a tiny, hurt sounds that just makes Graves hold him tighter.

“That's it, _uh_ , you take it, swallow it all, swallow all Daddy’s come.”

Credence does, he swallows repeatedly, milking Graves’ cock to the last drop. Graves holds him there, feeling himself start to go soft in his mouth, before he pulls him off.

The boy is a mess. His face is coated with thick saliva and tears, eyes red, mouth open and gasping.

Lovely.

Graves groans in satisfaction and tucks himself away, pulling Credence up onto the couch to lay his head in his lap. Credence practically collapses onto him, still shaking, taking big, shuddering gasps that end in coughs. Graves has already picked up his book from the end table before he realizes Credence has started squirming for an entirely different reason. Credence's cock is an angry red, and when Graves touches it with a finger Credence's whole body spasms.

“Oh, you want to come?”

“Yes – yes Papa, please –”

Credence's voice is high and needy, still rough from taking Graves’ cock, and absolutely desperate.

“I know you do,” Graves murmurs, his voice dark.

He grips Credence's cock, jerking roughly until the boy starts to cry again. His sobs twist something in Graves, something deep, and his grip tightens just a little too much. Credence cries out, but he also shudders violently as pleasure washes through him, and something less than an orgasm is pulled from him. Credence is crying softly in Graves’ lap, making pathetic little noises of frustration and need.

“Quiet, pet.”

Credence's hand reaches down between his legs to grab his cock, but Graves slaps it back. He grabs the boy by the hair and brings his palm down hard across his cheek, with sharp crack when he makes contact.

“Don’t you dare,” Graves growls. “Be grateful I touch you at all.”  With Credence in his lap, Graves opens his book.

Credence can’t keep still. He wiggles, he squirms, he tries to rub his weeping cock against anything he can reach. His hands keep trying to sneak down between his legs until Graves snaps his book shut and grabs Credence’s wrists, holding them hard enough to bruise.

“You _fucking slut._ Do you have any idea how pathetic you are?”

Credence shakes his head, slow, flushing red. “T-tell me Papa, please?”

Graves stares at him for a moment in disbelief. His grip on Credence’s wrists tightens, and the boy makes a pained cry. “Oh, I’ll tell you,” Graves snarls. “You need to be fucked like breathing. Always needing something in your hole, something on your cock, you’d hump the sheets all day if I didn’t force you to act like a person. You’re disgusting.”

Credence’s eyes go wide, and Graves can see the hurt in them. He doesn’t know what the boy expected. “Nasty little slut.”

Credence whines, hips jerking helplessly as tears well up in his eyes. It rises up in Graves suddenly, the need to hurt this boy, and his hand darts out to clamp over his nose and mouth. “You want to breathe or you want to be fucked, hmm?”  Credence can’t answer, he’s squirming weakly, head pinned in Graves’ lap and wrists still held above his head in a crushing grip. Graves presses down, relishing Credence’s hopeless struggling and watching as his movements grow weaker. “Which do you need more, slut, air or sex? Just how much do you want to be fucked?”

Just as Credence’s eyelids start to droop, Graves pulls his hand away. Credence takes big, shuddering breaths, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes, and curls into Graves’ abdomen. The boy clings to him, sniffling, still taking little gulps of air, and he holds on to Graves like he needs him to live. Graves wraps one arm around Credence, holding him close, and reaches down with his other hand to wrap his fingers around his cock. It’s thick and heavy in his hand and Credence tenses up against him when he touches it. Worked up as he is, it doesn’t take long for Graves to have him trembling and gasping, begging, “Please, please let me come Papa, I need it so bad.”

But the boy doesn’t get to come. He reaches his climax and he howls, hips working furiously, rutting into Graves’ hand and sobbing when it does absolutely nothing to release the aching need Graves knows is inside him.

“Aren’t you a lucky slut. Breathing and fucking.”

 

* * *

 

_“Do you have any idea how pretty you are?”  Credence’s breath catches at Mister Graves’ words. Pretty, he’s pretty, Mister Graves thinks he’s pretty. It’s a question, and does he dare answer? He wants to know, he wants Mister Graves to tell him, oh he wants it so bad._

_“T-tell me sir, please?”_

_He looks up at Mister Graves with pure adulation, infinitely taken with the lines of his face, the sound of his voice, the feel of his hands._

_But when Mister Graves speaks it’s not what he expects. His tone is harsh, mocking, and the words… calling him needy, calling him a slut. Calling him disgusting. Credence doesn’t understand, Mister Graves would never say those things to him. Mister Graves takes care of him, loves him. Credence feels himself crying, caught in Mister Graves’ grip, and no, no, this isn’t right._

_He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, Mister Graves is smiling at him. Thank god. He knew he was wrong. Credence gets confused sometimes, his mind plays tricks on him, but Mister Graves loves him. He should never have doubted, how could he doubt Mister Graves?_

 

* * *

Graves keeps him that way all evening. Hard, aching, crying. He’s desperate, doing anything Graves says in the futile hope that he will let the boy come. Graves keeps him on his lap, makes him be still, enjoying the way that he unravels, coming apart under the strain of his body’s needs. He can see it as Credence starts to fall apart, weeping and twitching with the effort of keeping his hands away from his cock.

Graves has half a mind to let him jerk himself, rub himself raw over and over in the futile pursuit of relief, because he knows Credence would do it. His body would just keep telling him he needed it, and he’d keep going, rutting into his own hand until it was pure pain to do so, but desperately chasing the chance for his cock to rest. It would be glorious to see, his boy destroying himself out of lust.

But Graves still has a modicum of self-control, at least for now. There’s no telling how he’ll feel later this evening, but for the moment he’s enjoying watching the boy cry as he fails to control his own body. The boy is a god damned distraction is what he is, all soft skin and tears, just craving someone to keep him in line. The needy whore.

When Graves starts to get bored he pins Credence on his back and exposes his pink, peaked nipples, just asking to be played with. They’re hard little nubs, as needy as the rest of his pet, and he digs the nails of his thumb and forefinger into one without preamble. He pinches, twisting, and Credence gives something between a sob and a scream that sends a deep thrill through Graves. He pinches hard as fresh tears run down Credence’s cheeks, and when Graves relents there are twin indentations left in Credence’s delicate skin in the crescent shape of Graves’ nails.

Graves continues, pressing nails into both of Credence’s nipples, and he can feels the boy trying not to pull away. Graves can see on his face how much it hurts him, each time he squeezes down it forces another pained whimper past Credence’s lips, and the sound goes straight to Graves’ cock. He pinches hard, craving the way it makes Credence writhe, how the boy fights himself trying to be good. He knows he’s not supposed to move, but his body spasms anyway.

“Papa… _ah!_ Papa, oh, please…”  Graves doesn’t know what he’s begging for, and he doesn’t care. He growls low, dark, Credence is drawing something out from deep within him. He just wants to _take._

“Filthy boy. You deserve this, you deserve to be made to scream, you’d have _nothing_ without me. Aren’t you grateful, little whore? Aren’t you glad to be Daddy’s plaything?”

Credence is nodding, eyes blown wide, mouth open and wet and panting.

“You’d better be.”

Graves grabs him by the hair and yanks him around, laying him out over the arm of the couch with his ass up in the air. He pulls the plug out of his ass and fingers the boy quickly, rough, sliding two fingers into his hole and pumping into him. Credence makes hurt little noises, but he’s taken worse. Credence is the one who has to wait for his satisfaction, not Graves. He fingers Credence’s soft insides, pressing into the warm hole and working his way inside.

He opens his trousers and takes out his cock, rubbing the head over Credence’s hole and smearing precome over his ass. He presses in, not rushing, but not gentle either. The boy’s wet hole feels so good around his cock, tight and warm and _his_. He pushes all the way inside, filling the boy up, and groans at the involuntary little twitches his ass makes.

“That’s it, pet.”

Graves slaps Credence’s ass, hard, making him tense up and squeeze around Graves’ cock wonderfully. It leaves the bright red outline of a handprint standing out stark on his skin. He pulls back and groans at the drag on his cock, working up a rhythm and thrusting deep into Credence’s hole.

“You like taking my dick, you’re made to be used up. Used up and thrown away like the filth you are. Disgusting, pathetic whore.”

Credence keens, hips thrusting against nothing, cock an angry, painful red, and he is never going to come. It doesn’t matter how pretty he is, how pathetic he is, his cock belongs to _Graves._ His thrusts make the boy’s body rock under him, limp and pliant as Graves fucks into him.

Graves reaches down, rakes his thumbnail over the head of Credence’s cock, and Credence loses control completely. He’s incapable of coming, but his cock releases anyway as he wets himself. Graves feels Credence’s whole body relax as his urine shoots over his stomach, covering his abdomen and soaking the couch beneath him, running down his legs and leaving him sticky and reeking. Graves keeps fucking him, fucking the piss out of him, and Credence is still going, apparently incapable of stopping. Credence’s whole body is loose and he’s crying steadily with little gulping sobs. Graves doesn’t know if the slut even realizes he wet himself, he looks so far gone.

Graves’ thrusts quicken and he grips Credence’s hips, fingertips digging into him where he’s already speckled with bruises. He’s dragging Credence back onto his cock, slamming their bodies together with enough force that he can see it rippling through Credence’s body, and the way Credence’s head bounces against the couch cushions is what finally tips Graves over the edge. He buries himself deep inside Credence, his hips jerking up, feeling the hot pleasure rush through him as his cock pulses, shooting his come deep inside Credence.

He holds the boy for a moment, cock still buried in his ass, breathing through the aftershocks and getting the most he can out of his boy’s warm, soft hole. It’s not so tight anymore. When Graves pulls out Credence’s hole flutters, trying to close itself back up and not quite succeeding. Graves can see the come just starting to drip out his hole, and he pushes it back inside.

“Oh, you just don’t look right without my come up your ass. Proper little slut now. I’d keep you like this all day, keep you like this forever, filthy thing with your hole full of come. Do you feel better? Is it better to know that you’re mine, that you belong to me? You do. I own you, and I own your hole.”

 

* * *

 

_Credence doesn’t understand what’s happening, he can’t keep track of anything at all. One moment Mister Graves is so good to him, so kind, and the next Credence’s mind slips and he imagines the most terrible things happening. The Mister Graves his mind makes up is cruel, harsh, mocking, and Credence doesn’t know what’s wrong with himself that he thinks of things like this._

_But Mister Graves will help him because he – the real Mister Graves, Credence’s Mister Graves – is the kindest man he’s ever met. He cares about Credence, he’s the only one who ever has, maybe even loves him. Mister Graves is telling him that Credence is his and Credence nearly sobs with relief, because he is, he is, he always will be. He knew Mister Graves was kind, he knew Mister Graves would take care of him, and now Mister Graves has promised that Credence is his forever and he’s never been so happy._

 

* * *

Credence is smiling, nodding, and he looks so giddy that Graves pulls back slightly in bewilderment. Credence clings to him, following his movement, and he’s giggling with what seems to be sheer joy.

“Yes Papa, I’ve always been yours. Always.”

Credence’s gaze is vacant, unfocused, and he looks like he may not remember where he is but he’s also beaming. Graves has never seen him so happy, so content. He folds himself into Graves’ arms, covered in piss and come and sweat as he is, and closes his eyes. Just what does Credence think is happening?

How much of the warped reality of his dreams does he think is real right now?

Graves stares at the boy laying in his arms, the boy who appears to have completely lost his grip on reality, and he closes a hand over the back of his neck.

“That’s right. Mine.”

Who is he to take away the boy’s happiness?

 

* * *

 

 

**End**

                 


End file.
